Page 23 of Tainted Souls
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of all those lives pressing down on me. Thirty-seven innocents. Thirty-seven loved ones. Thirty-seven futures hanging in the balance. And my Max, who had planned our life together in his meticulous way, who had probably hidden an engagement ring somewhere in his apartment, waiting for the perfect moment.
I open my eyes to find both the chief and the general watching me intently. “Why me?”
“It could have something to do with why Revenant spared you that day,” the general says, contemplating, his expression hardening, “and saved you tonight.”
“They want to recruit me into their cults,” I say, confident of my imputation.
The general sighs, then nods. “Yeah, that’s what it looks like. Don’t worry, we won’t let that happen.”
The chief taps her watch. “The clock is ticking. By midnight tomorrow, all thirty-seven victims will be entering the final stages of transition. We need to come up with a plan.Fast.”
The general stares me down with calculating eyes, as if weighing my worth against thirty-seven innocent lives. “They think of Seraph as our bargaining chip. We’ll implant a tracker on her, deploy a tactical team to back her up, and once the deal is done, slayers will move in to secure the target.”
“What could go wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, I push back from the table and stand, pacing the confines of the interrogation room.
The lingering scent of Max’s blood still clings to my skin, mingling with the antiseptic smell of the police station. My mind races through possibilities, none of them good.
“What if she doesn’t uphold her end of the deal?” I think out loud. “What if our treachery makes her kill them anyway? Or kill more? Turn more? What if the Ravens show up again?”
“Those are risks we’ll have to take,” the general answers, pragmatic as always.
I press my palms flat against the cool metal table, trying to calm my mind. “I need to see Max.”
The chief and the general exchange glances.
“That’s not advisable,” says the general.
Tears sting in my eyes, voice cracking. I rarely sound this desperate. “I need to see him.Please.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the chief nods.
The general gathers his folder. “I’ll escort you to the medical wing.”
The walk there feels endless.
Each step echoes in the sterile hallway, punctuating the silence between us. I look at our reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows, noticing his rigid posture as his steps measure to match mine.
“Your father would be proud of you,” he says, breaking the silence.
I resist the urge to flinch at the mention of my father. “For what? Getting my boyfriend turned? For failing to capture the vampire who murdered him?”
“For surviving.” He slows his pace. “For saving lives. You’re good at what you do, Seraph. Redmoore would love to have you back.”
So that’s what this is about.
“Not after what happened that day.” My stomach twists into knots. “It’d just reopen old wounds.”Ones that I’m trying hard to mend.
“Those deaths were not your fault.”
That doesn’t take away the fact that I was the only one spared, while the rest were torn through without mercy. Our conversation takes me back to the night when I learned what real loss tastes like.
“Seraph, your form is sloppy,” my father said, his voice stern but his eyes kind as he adjusted my stance. “Elbows tucked, core tight, knees bent. Remember, vampires are faster than you think.”
I rolled my eyes, fifteen and invincible. “Dad, I have been training for three years now.”
“And yet,” he said, sweeping my legs out from under me, making me hit the training mat with a thud, the breath knocked from my lungs, “you still leave yourself open.”
He extended his hand, pulling me to my feet. Benefits of having a parent at Redmoore, I thought. Private lessons.
